“Have I not told you I should perhaps require your assistance after my death?” said Bruno.
“Pardon me, father,” said Ali, “I had forgotten that.”
“Away, captain, and do as I have said,” said Bruno; “when I see the flames extinguished I shall know my terms are accepted.”
“Do you not wish me to be the bearer of the news?” asked the merchant.
“Did I not say you should be my negociator? By-the-by,” continued Pascal, “how many houses are burnt?”
“Two when I came away,” replied the Maltese.
“There are three hundred and fifteen ounces in this purse, distribute them among the sufferers.”
“Adieu!” said the Maltese, shaking Bruno by the hand.
Bruno threw his pistol away, again seated himself on his powder barrel and fell into a deep reverie.
The young Arab extended himself on his tiger’s skin, and remained motionless, closing his eyes as if he slept. By degrees the light of the fire expired—Bruno’s conditions had been accepted.